


Stealing Time

by spacedaughter



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: 5x11 "They did What?", Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Kissing, M/M, Nygmobblepot, Smut, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacedaughter/pseuds/spacedaughter
Summary: This takes place in 5x11 "They Did What?"After Oswald gets injured from the bomb explosion, they're back at the GCPD. Oswald had just been bandaged up but still bleeding. Ed is eager to clarify himself about a question Oswald asked a while back.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot & Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Kudos: 37





	Stealing Time

“And you stuck around long enough to risk both of our lives to save Barbara’s?” Oswald’s tone is accusatory with a hint of genuine curiosity. Ed stares at him, waiting, because he knows Oswald still has more to say. When he really focuses, he notices every little thing about Oswald, as if he slows down under his gaze. The way Oswald’s eyes dart around at every corner, trying to catch the words flying around him and when he pulls back, as if pushed by something he caught in the air. 

“Or was it to protect Lee?”  
Ed is quick to respond to this question, but not with a direct answer, “Do you want me to answer that or do you want to sail away from here?”  
The look on Oswald’s face, whatever it is, shifts to a smile, “Bon voyage!” He raises his hands, signaling them to start moving. They start walking to the exit, and Ed thinks about Oswald’s question again, _Or was it to protect Lee?_ He is thinking about it not because he is figuring out the answer. He knows what the answer is, but he doesn’t know why he didn’t say it to Oswald. 

//

On a normal day, the GCPD would be filled with people, and you wouldn’t really get a moment of peace anywhere you go, but now that the city is at war, and the police station is their only safe base, it’s even noisier than usual, more crowded, more chaotic. The forensics lab is filled with the wounded. A policeman is lying down on the table, three are sitting down on the floor, all of them seem to be unconscious. Police medics are coming in and out of the room, bringing bandages and medicine and checking on the people in the room. When someone finally opens their eyes, they are escorted out, sent to battle, ready or not. This really is war. 

Oswald is already bandaged up. His right eye was a casualty to saving Ed from a bomb blindly thrown at them just hours ago. Oswald didn’t even take more than a second to think; from the sound of his voice when he screamed Ed’s name, Ed knew he was going to be saved again. Despite their several attempts to kill each other, he realizes that Oswald, when given the chance, always chooses to protect Ed. He didn’t give him up when Barbara was forcing him to, and when Oswald found him and Lee dead on the floor of Cherry’s, he saved them and had Hugo Strange bring them back to life. Then, just recently, before escaping, he heard Oswald threaten the GCPD with bullets when they asked him where Ed was. Oswald always chooses to save him. He feels a lump in his throat as he recalls all the moments Oswald has proven how love has not weakened him, but only made him braver. 

He looks at his friend leaning back on the table, facing upward, blinking his only good eye left. He wore fingerless leather gloves that Ed always thought were pointless but never criticized them out loud as he also thought they looked good on Oswald’s delicate hands. _Delicate._ He laughs to himself at the term, the hands of a killer are anything but. However, he only knew these hands when they touched his face after he was strangled by Butch, when they held onto his robe after declaring his loyalty to the then-mayor of Gotham, and when they pulled onto his collar before calling on the Riddler. Despite the fiery emotions Oswald had in these moments, his hands, when holding Ed, _were_ delicate. Right now, one of these hands are resting on the patch covering his right eye. Blood drips down his right cheek at every light push, and Ed just watches the ruby liquid slide off Oswald’s pale skin. It goes down so easily. _When he really focuses, he notices every little thing about Oswald_. He muses to himself, why is his mind pushing all these memories to the surface now? 

To break the noise in his head, he speaks, “Oswald, again, I’m sorry--”  
“And again, it’s the least I could do, Ed.” Oswald is exactly the way he was the first time he says this, hand on his eye, voice in pain.  
He raises his hand and takes Oswald’s right hand off the bandage. _Delicate_ , he thinks.  
Ed understands that everything is a mess right now, and everyone must be on the move, but that medic could have done a better job bandaging Oswald. His nose scrunches in frustration as he realigns the bandage with his free hand.  
“Does it still hurt?” He asks, slowly dropping Oswald’s hand to his side.  
“I can’t tell. I just feel blood leaking from my sockets,” he hisses.  
Ed pulls out a green handkerchief from his pocket, folds the corner to a triangle, and lightly dabs the blood dripping down Oswald’s face.  
Oswald breaks the silence again, quick, as if just looking at each other in the quiet hurt, “This was bound to happen. You can’t expect to be king of the underworld and keep all your body parts good and dandy.” He balls his hand to a fist and lightly knocks on his bad leg. Ed smiles as he folds the handkerchief, putting it back in his pocket.  
“But, for Gotham, I can lose a few more limbs and organs.” Oswald curls his lips into a small smile and looks at Ed, “Just not my life.”  
His tone was humoring, but Ed couldn’t help but react seriously. He felt the anxiety over this statement hypocritical given that he’s tried to take Oswald’s life many times, and Oswald has also put himself in peril to save him or just… be with him.

“Oswald, I didn’t do it to protect Lee.” His words shot out of nowhere, muting all the chaos around them. Only then do they notice that all the wounded but Oswald have left the room, perhaps readying for another assault on the enemy. This assumption also comes from the sudden quiet outside. With this, they think they should hurry out too, but both seem to know that the conversation is far from over. Oswald, however, tries to end it.  
“Okay, Ed. I believe you. Whatever your reason was, it’s fine. Now is not the time to ponder on something unimportant.”  
Ed huffs in frustration; he knows that Oswald knows he isn’t finished.  
“I just want you to know that,” he pleads, placing his hand on Oswald’s chest, “I would never have you risk your life for something I selfishly want.” _Selfishly want._ That’s not the best term, he thinks to himself. His reason is selfish, just not the selfish reason Oswald thinks it is. 

Oswald straightens himself and furrows his eyebrows. He purses his lips, and Ed thinks he’s trying to catch words in the air again. Then he finally speaks, “Okay, Ed, I’ll play along then. Why in Gotham’s sake did you have us risk our lives not to save Barbara, no,” he waves his finger, reminiscent of Fish’s signature move, “and not to protect Lee either? What’s the riddle, friend?”

The last word was sharp.

Ed smiles and takes a step back. “What flies without wings? What is harmless but can kill you? What runs out but is never completely empty?”  
Oswald’s face soften as he tries to think. “Thoughts? Words? Memories?”  
“Close,” Ed holds his index finger up and moves it clockwise, “Time.” 

It seem to have gone completely silent outside. Oswald’s eye dart to the door, not because he wants to leave, but because he’s thinking. “Time?” He looks back again at Ed. “You said we weren’t buying time to save Barbara or Lee, _Ed_.” The last word, again, was sharp out of Oswald’s mouth.  
The taller man chuckles, “No, no, we weren’t.” He takes a step closer, _too close_. “Time with you, Oswald. I was stealing time with you.” 

Question marks could practically be flying around Oswald’s head. While being intelligent, clever, and strategic, all the words to describe a genius crime boss, he is quite dull in some areas, at some moments.  
“You would have gotten that if we left and escaped in the submarine together,” he finally says.  
Ed crosses his arms and turns around. He feels a bit heavy in the chest and pretends holding his arms in front of them would prevent him from spilling out. Something is trying to spill out.  
“Yeah, but after a short submarine ride, there would be none left,"  
He turns around to face Oswald again, “time with you, I mean.” His words clumsily fall out his mouth. He never was good at explaining his feelings… to Oswald, specifically. 

Oswald limps closer to him, his eye not breaking away from Ed’s face. “Elaborate,” he whispers.  
Even though his voice is soft, it rings loud in Ed’s ears. He spoke in front of Ed but the latter felt like the air traveled and grazed his neck, making his hair stand up. It always amuses him how small, limping, soft-faced Penguin could be so terrifying.  
But he can measure up. He feels a bit of selfishness bubbling inside him again, and he wants to get what he wants once more.

Ed’s voice is heavy and low; he’s phoned a friend, and the Riddler seems to be talking now, “I want every bit of time left I can have with you, Oswald.”  
Oswald replies with no second thought, “Well, I’m not leaving, apparently, and neither are you, so we have all the time we need.” He smirks and starts walking. Though he doesn’t mean to, he bumps Ed’s shoulder as he limps to the door. It only opens a few inches before Ed’s hand slams it shut.  
“Alright. Then, I want to claim some of that time now, if you wouldn’t mind?” Ed’s face is serious, his arm still raised, hand holding the door shut.  
“What do you want?” Oswald negotiates. “If you want to talk about how we can divide the treasures I stole to start a new life outside no man’s island, then you have to offer something very good for a bigger part.”  
Ed drops his hand to Oswald’s shoulder as his plush lips curl into a sinister smile. His hand continues to move down Oswald’s lapel, and his index finger finds its way inside the knot of the other’s tie. He loosens them in one pull, and Oswald lets out a soft gasp.

He feels his heart bit fast, _out of nervousness? What is Ed thinking?_ The taller man has occupied all the space around him now, and he feels tight as his friend towers and looks down at him. Oswald, however, doesn’t feel small, nor does he feel terrified. He feels _challenged._

One thing that distinguishes Ed from his alter ego is this power that easily puts him on equal footing with Oswald. While Ed struggles to be at par with the Penguin, the Riddler makes it so easy, so it was the Riddler who he enjoyed playing with; it was the Riddler who he fell in love with. He watched this villain form the day Ed confessed his crimes to him and asked him to be his mentor. He loved it when he would peak through the creases of Ed’s mind as the chief-of-staff and also Oswald’s right-hand man in the underworld. He was heartbroken when he retreated after Ed found what’s-her-face. It was worse when Ed pretended to be him when he “killed” Oswald for the first time. It was ecstasy when the Riddler called to him in Arkham and he called him back and released him. Then, for a while, he couldn’t tell the Riddler from Ed anymore, but looking at them now, he feels warmth, heat, a burning flame lighting inside him, seeing how they, Ed and the Riddler, are slowly, _finally,_ molding into one.

“How much time do you need?” Oswald asks and Ed’s smile grows hungrier.

The Riddler is rarely sentimental; he thought it was Ed who was begging for more time with his old friend, so he refused to play along, but he realizes now that maybe it was both of them. It’s flattering to think about how all of Ed wants him in whatever way they want to. He thinks to himself, _All of him, just for me. Finally._

“With the city falling into its apocalyptic end, I don’t think we get to decide how much time we’ll be spending in this room, but I’d like to think of that as a challenge.” Ed punctuates his statement with a wink, and he quickly locks the door then hooks Oswald by the hips. He spins him around so his back is to the table. Oswald hit the metal a bit too hard and he winces from the pain (After all, they’ve been in battle for hours, so his body is not in the best shape). Before he could complain, however, Ed places his hand at the back of Oswald’s neck and serenades him with a commanding tone, “I’ll take what I can until you beg me to stop.”

Ed pulls Oswald into a hard kiss. His body drops at the feeling of Ed’s lips on his, but the other’s arm, still around his waist, holds him up. Ed is not physically strong, but he can do what he wills to Oswald’s body. He raises his hands to grasp at Ed’s collar and forcefully pulls him closer. Ed meets this gesture with a slide of his tongue in Oswald’s mouth and a turn of his hip so that their crotches would meet. They're both hard and the cloths of their pants scraped as they humped each other, aggressively, hungrily, _feral and finally free._

Ed’s kisses move to the side of Oswald’s lips, then to his cheek. He tastes iron as he realizes Oswald’s wound is dripping blood again. He pulls back and wipes the blood off with his thumb before looking at Oswald and sucking his own finger. He tastes Oswald and feels the familiar sensation he gets when blood splatters on his face either from doing forensic work or doing something forensics will have to deal with later. He'd always breathe in hard and hold back from licking it all off himself. He's always been fascinated with blood, that red liquid pumping through our veins giving us life, how wonderful would it be to take it from someone all for yourself?  
Oswald feels himself throb at the sight of Ed’s piercing eyes, looking straight at him, reintroducing a vicious villain that he knew has always been there.  
“Anytime I’d see you bleeding I’ve wanted to know your flavor.”  
Oswald’s eye widens at the confession; Ed’s voice is sharp and ferocious.  
“Exquisite...” He breathes out hungrily. Oswald struggles for a comeback but before he could talk, Ed slams their mouth together again, with his one hand placed on Oswald’s right cheek. Oswald feels Ed drawing circles with his thumb, and he smells his own blood as the other spreads it on his face, to his lips, and down his neck. He is being garnished with his own fluids, and it felt sensational. Ed would trail and lick it off eagerly, panting and almost growling each time he slides his tongue on Oswald’s skin. He never expected to have this kink, what more to share it with the only person he ever thought about intimately.

Ed pulls back to breathe, the corners of his mouth are stained red. Oswald seizes the opportunity for control and pulls Ed by his belt. His hand snakes inside Ed’s coat, worming its way to his back, and down his pants. He grabs Ed’s ass before he pulls out a knife from the back pocket. 

“I know where you keep your tools, Ed.” He clicks the knife open, and Ed pants like a hungry dog, his tongue slips out of his lips as he licks Oswald’s blood off the side of his own mouth.  
“What are you doing to me, Oswald?” He feels his erection throbbing as he watches Oswald holding up a knife, his eye hooded, smiling that evil smile at him.

Oswald answers by finally pulling off his tie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. His skin is pale and freckled, and Ed focuses again to marvel at every detail, committing them to memory for personal use later. A harsh line dripping red liquid suddenly breaks his process as he realizes Oswald has slit his chest. The skin around the cut flushes red. Ed worries for a sec, but Oswald is a professional; he knows just how deep to cut for it to bleed enough but not be fatal. He knows just what Ed needs right now.

“I’m giving you a little treat for being such a good boy, Ed, coming back to help us save Gotham and all.” Oswald extends his hand and like clockwork, Ed walks forward, allowing the other to place his hand at the back of his head. He guides Ed down to his chest, and his fingers curl to Ed’s hair as the other starts sucking the blood out of his scar. It stung like hell, and every pang from Ed inhaling cues his member to grow harder.

Oswald’s blood gushes in his mouth like a river of melted iron. The harsh taste runs around his tongue and down to his throat. Every gulp he takes is power. Many have drawn blood from Oswald Cobblepot but only he has taken him in completely. He’s drinking Oswald in, the most powerful criminal in Gotham has offered himself as a fountain of pure pleasure to him. All for him. He groans as his insides couldn’t take all of this pleasure right now. He feels his head spinning at the taste of blood, the texture of Oswald’s skin, and the sound of his voice humming and resisting pain, just so Ed could have want he wants. _A taste of him. Every part of him._

Ed raises his head, his eyes still closed, the expression on his face shows a long thirst has been quenched fully by the taste of the other man. His mouth hangs open and words slowly slip out, “Did…. you know…. “ He gulps and struggles to continue, “…that raw blood is not usually consumed… by itself?” It was very much like Ed to spew a random trivia in the middle of whatever moment he was in. Oswald, while annoyed by the break from pleasure, plays along, “Oh?”  
He places both of his hands on Ed’s cheek, signaling the other to look at him. Ed opens his eyes, “It’s traditionally eaten with other dishes.”  
Oswald finally makes sense of his dirty talk, and he couldn’t help but smile as he looks down at his own fly, which is already being undone by Ed. 

He then drops to his knees and as quick as he pulls it out, he takes Oswald’s member in his mouth. The taste of pre-come and blood mixed and his tongue dances around the head, trying to savor every bit of it. Oswald tilts his head back and holds onto dear life, as he feels Ed’s wet tongue playing with him. He tangles his fingers in Ed’s soft curls as the other bobs his head up and down his cock. _Delicate_ , Ed thinks to himself. Oswald has thought about this sensation many times before, in his bedroom alone after a day spent with Ed, in the hall of the mansion when he’d walk out after smelling Ed's perfume, in Arkham the day after Ed gave him the penguin origami, and literally a few moments ago when Ed carried him from battle. He’s thought about Ed’s lips all over him, sucking every part of him, every unlikely moment he could, and now it’s finally happening and he struggles to stay in the moment as the pleasure keeps sending him up to heaven’s high. With effort, he indulges himself and breathes in every bit of pleasure coursing through his body, ignoring the sting from the fresh wound he gave himself. 

Ed releases Oswald from his mouth and looks up. His eyes are glassy and his lips are plump. Oswald desperately commits this to memory. Then Ed’s hand snakes up Oswald’s chest. He hooks his fingers onto the open shirt then forcefully pulls Oswald’s top open, exposing his bare chest to the cold air. Some buttons fling off the fabric, and Ed watches the trail of blood from the wound, marking Oswald from his collar down to his stomach. He wipes the blood off with his palm before holding onto Oswald’s cock again, generously covering it with his lover’s own fluid. The blood mixed with Ed’s saliva and it made it easy for him to move his hands up and down. Oswald could do nothing but watch as Ed makes things more pleasurable for himself. Ed takes him in the mouth again and he groans at the sensation. Ed’s taking him in deeper and faster, and he could feel himself getting closer. Ed’s mouth was so soft and so wet around his cock, his movement was calculated but fierce. He feels sweat trail down his back and blood down his chest. The cold air dances around the room and kisses his bare skin. 

As much as he wants to savor the moment, he knows they don’t really have much time for longer intimacy as the noise outside the room starts to well up again. 

He shuts his eye to try and hold on for a few more seconds.  
“Ed…” he begs breathlessly. He could see Ed raise his eyebrows in his response.  
“I’m so close… E--Ed…” Ed is taking every word as an instruction to get him there faster. He puts one hand on Oswald’s cock and moves it up and down, following his own mouth. His other hand makes its way to his own crotch, unbuttoning his pants, and finally letting his own erection breathe.  
Oswald is impressed at Ed’s ambidexterity and makes a mental note of using this skill for _only_ his pleasure some other time.

Ed spreads his own pre-come with his thumb, getting himself all wet for the motion to move more smoothly. He finds his rhythm and couldn’t help but curve the side of his lip at his own amusement. He could hear Oswald’s breathing growing faster, louder, and more desperate. It’s like music to his ears, and his hands and mouth follow the beat as he works to get both of them off. 

“Ed… Ed… God!” Oswald muffled his scream with a hand on his mouth. Then he lets go and whispers, “I--I never stopped loving you,” he says in between breaths.  
“Just thought… you’d know that before I… Ohhh!” Ed knows what Oswald is going to say, so he teases and takes all of Oswald in his mouth, causing the other to moan out loud. He releases Oswald for a sec, looks up at him, and says, “I know. I love you, too, every bit of you…” And Ed takes him in again, quick as the moment slowed down for their confessions, Ed returns to his rhythm. They’ve said what needs to be said, good for them, and now they have to reward themselves.

Everything is all too much for Oswald now as he finally hears the words he’s always wanted to hear from Ed. A sensation shot right up his back and he curls his toes in his expensive black shoes, he’s so fucking close and “Ed… Ed… Ed!”  
He comes undone and right on cue Ed lets himself spill, too. Ed slows down and drinks in his reward, tasting salt and iron.

Oswald turns and drops his body to the table, resting his head in his arms. Ed groans, standing up. He pulls out the handkerchief, stained with a bit of Oswald’s blood. He feels a bit of arousal again at the sight of red on the green but his body begs for rest. He wipes himself clean before throwing the cloth into a nearby trash can.

He cups Oswald’s face and raises his head to look at him. Oswald takes this cue to straighten up. Ed buttons his top for him. He chuckles seeing that two buttons are missing. “Sorry, this must’ve been expensive.” 

Oswald drops his head to Ed’s chests and takes a deep breath. “It’s fine. I have a ton of treasure. I can buy as many replacement buttons as I want.” 

Ed finishes with the remaining buttons. He glances at the door and sees shadows moving around outside. The time he bought has been spent, and they better return to their duties. He doesn’t want Gordon or Bullock to think they’re slacking off after offering themselves as allies.

“So…” Oswald fixes his tie. “Are you happy with the time you stole?”  
“Very,” Ed smiles.  
“There could be plenty more if we save this city and take it for ourselves, you know?”  
He replies to the suggestion with a kiss, firmly planted on Oswald’s lips. Oswald moves his mouth open and sucks on Ed’s bottom lip before breaking away again.  
“Ok then, shall we get work?” He says before they step out of the room.

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched the episode and noticed that Ed and Oswald disappear for a while. I imagine this is what happened before they come out and Oswald announces that the Wayne Tower was blown. I really think Ed could have a blood kink. Like.... Think about it.


End file.
